Lucrezia
by Shiroiyuki3
Summary: Beyond the borders of Merquoite, an ancient ruin sits in despair: the Labyrinth of Trepeste. A creature lurks within its realm, waiting for a certain Dhampir hunter to rise to its challenge...Chapter 1 up!
1. Prologue

Born of primeval thorn, a twisting labyrinth sat eternal, ominous thickets ablaze with venom to welcome those who trespassed. Warmth abandoned this frozen terrain, and a petrified prison of icy graves grew from the victims caught in its trap. Frost veined out in swells across graying roots, preying upon visitors not careful in their gait. Within this bleak asylum many a human went mad trying to escape its grasp, choosing to suffer starvation rather than continue ahead. Even daylight condemned this unholy darkness, a hungry miasma consuming its depths from the world outside. Secluded and forbidding, Trepeste Forest scythed the Frontier in two, creating a mausoleum of decay that sat vacant as life blossomed around it.

Awkward was this ancient ruin, contrasted by cheerful gardens and sun-dappled meadows. Quaint little farmhouses dotted the pastures surrounding its keep, their flock grazing happily amongst ripened green grass. They encircled the heart of Merquoite, the haughty center of refinement and influence esteemed across the Frontier as the first word in style. Decades it had been since the last of the Nobles attacked, with memories of vampiric delight loosing color with age. Content in their safety, the townspeople of Merquoite turned a blind eye to their unattractive neighbor to the north, focusing on vogue new fashion statements and upper-class prestige.

Theirs was a society of wealth and snobbery, of corsets and fabrics ornately patterned to display their expense. One could not be bothered with such trivial matters as vampires or demons. Let the poor worry about death; the newest fad yearned to be flaunted instead. Trespeste sat confined by their eager development, the last trace of a dark past forgotten. But something evil churned beneath its dormant façade, an evil Merquoite pretended to ignore through layers of silk crepe. A terrible demon had made this quiescent fortress its realm, and slowly it consumed Merquoite by force.

For the past four months, this once quiet Frontier town had been home to unusual disturbances. Unattended children disappeared both night and day, no signs of struggle found in their wake. Nightmares of blood so vivid and fresh haunted the dreams of each person in Merquoite. Money could not protect them now, as once was believed. The line between rich and poor soon became as obscure as Night itself. Being wealthy meant nothing to a vampire, whose cold endless hunger knew no bias. Gold and jewels once used for adornment now became payment to those foolish enough to track this beast.

Rogue hunters raped Trepeste's graveyard in pursuit of this demon, most falling prey to its callous trickery. If lucky, endurance would reward pardon from the first phase and deliver another challenge; a dark twisting ravine of long jagged rock, stained red with the blood of humans' past. A windless void greeted them now, empty save for the uneasy heartbeats of those present. With no way to cross unscathed, the only choice was to plunge headfirst and hope for survival. Many did, but none returned. No human dared venture beyond this last summit after so many went missing, and so, they hired Him.

Against better judgment, He was summoned by the Sheriff of Merquoite to investigate these odd occurrences and bring back the missing children. A Dhampir, a half-breed abomination no better than the fiend he was paid to pursue. But who better to interrogate a demon than a demon as well? Such were the considerations the town leaders made. And such was the beginning of Their story...

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Disclaimer: Vampire Hunter D and all pre-existing characters, names, locations, or situations do not belong to me. They are the property of Hideyuki Kikuchi. I do, however, own and possess all creative control over the characters, place names, and storylines introduced to this story by me. Please do not use them without my permission.


	2. Sleepless Dreaming

In the beginning, there was darkness.

Night slowly unfurled her muted whisper onto the hunter, sober lament tempting D's sagacity where he lay amongst the black. Hints of color splashed faintly into view, pallet of a muddled dream blossoming just to wither abruptly into obscurity from whence it came. Silence pierced his ears, a menacing hum saturating the night with voices, clear, crisp; beckoning his name. But they came from within, the hunter was sure of, as he was quite alone in this void. Black reeled into memory, broken by those voices, shifting the patterns D accepted as solitude inside this shattering chaos. Fragmented bits of his life were tossed into being, senseless they simmered and bubbled with sound. And then the abyss parted, a single prayer drowning out all others. A woman, no, a voice, hungry for the hunter's attention; a symphony of foreign words spiced with unrequited lust.

Hers was the sound of temptation, mesmerizing warmth washing over D with each note of this exotic song. Such a contrast to Night's cold touch, her haunting aria lit ablaze; liquid flame scaling octaves inhumanly sharp and clear. But within this new rapture, menace lurked. The pages of time surrendered to her lure, images and faces raping the hunter's dream as they spun backwards in confusion. Emotions entwined with their mayhem, disinterring corpses of memory from the mausoleum of D's mind. Pleading, summoning, this unseen songstress examined each piece of his being as it fluttered from view, unsatisfied until the event she longed for was found.

Perfumes of the flesh beseeched his senses as faces born of memory haunted this haze. A flash and the Castle of Chaythe appeared; her somber portrait dissolving amid indistinct shadows of a blood drenched Countess. The human Charlotte clutched onto her vampire lover, their pale faces frozen in time as the song lingered and pulsated with operatic longing. The hunt was over, the hunter had triumphed. Leila was there, returned to him from the grave. So young and innocent, her blond face melted into the black with a curt little smile. Tensing and clawing with resistance, D's body buried the memories down. But his captor's desire could not be tamed.

She was searching for something, this invisible Lorelei, invading D's mind with such passionate hunger and thirst. Another note and he faced his mother, long black hair soaking his vision as she knelt near his child form. She was smiling and stroking the young dhampir's hair, but the real D dared not move, save for a clutching hand on the hilt of his weapon. And with a breath, the memory vanished and only her song remained. Anger boiled within D now, betraying the hunter's flawless mask of a face.

Demons he'd hunted flooded his view, crystallized eyes of the departed damning him down where he staggered and fell. Blood thirsty cousins screamed in vain as their twisted faces sunk into the darkness behind him, dying as they had by his sword centuries ago. Towns, places, ages lived in a blink of an eye evaporated into Night's void just as rapidly as they came. And that song, so persistent. There it hesitated, that relentless refrain, begging defeat where vision went blind. So familiar... D realized he was not stranger to its melody, but curious was the theater of imagery it inflamed.

And just as he bit down to end her glory, the enticing mirage perished, color bleeding back into darkness to leave him stranded once more. Ravenous black rushed to fill the gap left in its wake, and once again night became his soul companion. Had this mysterious woman finally found what she longed for, leaving D floating, drifting, suspended in nothing? Time ceased to exist as his songstress's fervor faded, and there was silence.

Then from the obscurity gushed statues, featureless and indistinctive. Generic figures marking entranceways not yet established and formed. Beyond them a bountiful labyrinth grew, lavish in its manicured greed as it fashioned a world born from abyss. Tight coils of thorn dwarfed the hunter, stretching to veil the newborn moon overhead. With each curiosity that blossomed around him, D calmly deducted he had been here before. But where exactly was here, he wondered? A scene stolen from memory was most likely the case. How odd that he couldn't place it.

A walkway unfolded, opulent and lush, skillfully assembling rivers of tile beneath D's leather boots. Snow dusted upon marble as roots assumed their desired place alongside each developing path, careful only to play where people would not. Save for an occasional gathering of white, his path's deep crimson hue reflected the moonlight like glass, casting an eerie red glow upon the snow skirting its edges. Like its four identical brothers, this trail led to the heart of a generous circular landscape: an ancient fountain, milky in complexion, abode to an ancient stone maiden frozen in place.

Water flowed soothingly from her elaborate broken pedestal, collecting inside the large sculpted basin below. She was dilapidated by time, eroded stone blurring the lines of a delicately shaped bosom held high with pride. Such a strange sight she was in this gloss-polished garden, so astoundingly weathered her marble compared to the rest. Clashing in contrast, it was obvious that the young labyrinth had been built up around this old structure. But why? From what D could tell the maiden must have been important, as such care had gone into preserving her elegant form throughout the ages. But only half of her smooth porcelain features remained intact, her tragic face damaged by something blunt and sturdy. A fault completed by somebody's hand, not by time. Was it punishment for something? Whoever destroyed her knew what they were doing. Who could she have been?

Something about this statue held his attention despite its flaw, fixation distorting the surrounding area from view as D slowly sauntered into her range. Just like the song from before, she too seemed familiar. Perhaps she had been singing all this time? D stopped to gaze at what once was her face. Too much was absent to determine the extent of her beauty; ornate costume the only indication of her likely high status and rank. A lady courtier, he presumed by her embroidered corset, a rich flowing gown further confirming his guess. A lady of significance in the very least, perhaps the love interest of this great courtyard's lord?

D studied what remained of her face for a moment, silently searching his brain for any traces of recollection. His heart seemed to recognize her, even if his eyes did not. Who was she? If just a courtier, why had she beckoned him so? Why bring him here, why expose this particular memory? D reached out to touch the gouge which was her face, but something happened that halted his effort; a detail once overlooked suddenly screaming to be seen. Beside her deformed ruin one lingering ear begged his attention, much too pointed to be human, reminiscent of Nobility instead.

With steel eyes narrowed, D's discovery splintered this painted world back into a pallet of color; the labyrinth melting, the marble had gone. Pendulous, eager, the endless void threatened to be master again. Only this faceless demon remained; the once enthralling fountain obscured by D's loathing. A vampire all along, was that why she sought him? Although lacking mouth, her broken crevice screamed for his sympathy as time spun into black. _D_..._D_...His confused eyes fell upon a ruined pendant and lingered helplessly, drawn to its shape. _D_... A necklace? Despite chaos, D fought to focus on its unusual form. _D_..._D_...

The world went black.

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Languid haze dissolved eternity's hold on him as a throbbing sting seized his body awake. His arm was the first to feel the cold, tensing at the sickening numbness which raced through his veins. D could not condemn its bite; pain proved he was still amongst the living. Had it all been a dream?

Opening his eyes, the abandoned field became the first tangible idea in what seemed a lifetime. Rain found the hunter's exposed face amongst the yellowing wheat; cold droplets silently scorning his blunt disregard of the elements. Only an hour left before sunset greeted him and still D lay asleep in this open field. Had that parasitic symbiont been aroused, the dhampir would surely be subject to snide remarks by now.

But D's carelessness was not without blame. The nightmare had proved a worthy opponent; escape granted only by ignorant rain. Had the sky not chosen to weep, would D still be prey to the dream's twisted absurdity? And what of the vampire woman who haunted his nightmare? That strange pendant flashed into memory. Though vague in his dizziness, something about that necklace yearned to be remembered. Could it have been-- No, the hunter would not loose time now. Pushing the darkness from this mind viciously, D stood and gathered his belongings.

The day was young when he set out, packing a satchel with enough blood capsules to feed his inhuman hunger for days. Slipping the vials gently into the pouch, his eyes carefully inspected each for defect. All appeared as new as the day he had purchased them, decades ago in the gypsy-polluted town of Salvador Rouge. Seven in all, seven vials standing between sanity and bloodlust. D held onto the last in silent revere, unconsciously rolling its smooth glass to watch the concentrated crimson play amongst the white of his hand.

A moment had passed before the hunter realized he was still gazing, captivated by this panacea of shining red liquid. The journey to Merquoite would be a challenging one, and who knew what he would find once he arrived. These precious moments spent preparing meant the difference between success and failure. Would it be prudent to take one now, lest suffer difficulty later on? Or should he save what precious few he had left for the road ahead?

D placed the vial next to its brothers and made his choice, mounting his cybernetic steed to face the newborn sun. He would not loose time. With so few Nobility left to ravage the world, a chance to exterminate their filth altogether was tempting to say the least. And if the summon was true, it would be a fierce vampire awaiting his challenge. He would not loose time.

Soon distant purple hills mingled with pink horizon, and watercolor haze gave birth to trees and forest amist the rain. "...Morning..."


End file.
